


Bedroom Eyes

by an_odd_ducky



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Age Difference, Cunnilingus, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Universe Alteration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-02
Updated: 2013-10-02
Packaged: 2017-12-28 04:56:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/987927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/an_odd_ducky/pseuds/an_odd_ducky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luke gets a birthday surprise, and Clary will never look at her bedroom the same way again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bedroom Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Eventually I will write something for this pairing that isn't just dirty porn.
> 
> Disclaimer: The legal age of consent in the state of New York is 17 years old. For the purposes of this and all Claymark fanfics I write and fanart I make, no sexual acts were performed between Clary and Luke prior to Clary's 17th birthday.
> 
> Additional Disclaimer: I haven't actually read the books; I'm only partway through City of Bones. Please excuse any discrepancies.

Luke was just locking the door to his shop when Clary ran up, eyes bright and hair wind-blown. His looked at her with surprise.

"I thought you were going to a poetry reading with Simon tonight?" Luke asked, but he stepped back and let her slip in anyway before turning the latch.

"I was, but then I remembered something more important, so I had to cancel. He won't mind; I don't think he wanted to go any more than I did."

Luke followed her into the bookshop, watching as she dropped her bag on the floor and hoisted herself onto the countertop to sit. "So what was so important, then?" he asked, resisting the temptation to tuck her hair behind her ear.

"It's your birthday."

Luke groaned. "I thought we agreed not to mention it?"

"Oh, no. That agreement was between you and my mother; I had no part in it." Clary turned and smirked at him as he walked around the counter.

"Well, you're wasting your time. I'm going to straighten the shop like I do every night, and then I'm going to open a bottle of Merlot and put my feet up and watch crap television until I fall asleep on the couch. And that's it. My celebrating days are long over."

"You're thirty-eight! What is so wrong with thirty-eight?"

"Remind me to ask you that when you turn thirty-eight."

"Oh, stop being such a baby about it," she told him, twisting around on the counter to face him. "If this is how you react to thirty-eight, how are you going to survive turning forty?"

Luke groaned and waved his hand in a silencing gesture. "We're not even going to talk about that. Thirty-eight is all I can handle right now."

He looked up when Clary didn't answer to find her giving him a calculating look.

"What?" He asked uneasily.

"I think it's kind of hot, actually." She reached out and lightly fingered the curls at his temples. "A little more grey, a few more lines around your eyes. It's...really hot," she trailed off, and her eyes dropped to his lips. Luke could almost see her fighting to hold back. She blinked and dropped her gaze, blushing. Luke felt a pulse of desire shoot through him and swallowed, trying to calm himself. This restraint was nothing new to them. Every movement had to constantly be kept in check lest their secret be found out.

"Well, I'm not too grey and wrinkled yet. So if it's just the same to you, I'd rather keep the birthday celebrations to a minimum," Luke mumbled, trying to remember what he had been doing a moment earlier. He picked up a stack of books that needed to be re-shelved. 

"But what if I've already got a surprise for you?" Clary asked, sliding off the counter to follow him.

Luke just sighed.

"Come on," she wheedled, sliding up close to him once they weren't in view of the big windows. "You'll like it."

Luke knew that tone of voice. That tone meant trouble. He stumbled backward a step. "You know the rules, Clary. We can't risk it."

"It's been over a month, Luke." Clary whined. 

"Your mom will know. She'll know the minute you get home, Clary," Luke sighed, and Clary knew he was right - her mother did have an uncanny ability to read people. Which is why Clary had planned ahead.

"She isn't home tonight." 

Luke looked at her, surprise crossing his face. "She isn't home?"

"I got her tickets to an art opening," Clary said, grinning mischievously. "She won't be back until late."

Luke absently placed the last book on a shelf, but Clary could tell his mind was elsewhere. She leaned against the shelf and waited. 

Finally, he licked his lips and glanced sidelong at her. "You're sure she won't come home early?"

Clary's face broke out into a grin. "Positive. It's abstract art; you know she won't leave until they kick her out."

Luke grabbed her hand, pulling her toward the back, but Clary pulled it back. "No."

Luke's head whipped around and he gave her a thoroughly confused look.

"Let's go to my place," she said.

Luke's eyes widened. "We can't. Clary, we can't. What if something goes wrong? What if your mother comes back?"

"She won't," Clary insisted. "Come on, Luke. We always do it here."

"Because this is the safest place we've got!" he said, running a hand through his hair. "We can't risk getting caught, Clary! Do you know how much trouble--?"

"This is the best chance we'll have!" She argued. "Please, Luke. Haven't...Haven't you ever wanted to fuck me in m-my room? In my bed?"

Luke looked away sharply, his breathing harsh, but Clary wasn't sure if it was frustration or desperation causing it. She took a step closer again.

"I think about it," she said softly. "All the time. I've never had sex in my bed before. You'd be the first to--to take me in it. God, Luke, I want it so bad. I want to look at my bed and remember every moment. I want to go to bed and night and touch myself thinking about what you did to me there. I want--"

"Stop." Luke's voice was barely a croak. He looked up at her, something wild and hungry in his eyes. "Let me get my coat."

\-------------------

Clary threw out a hand and grabbed her comforter, clutching it tightly and she gasped in a breath. The smell of sex filled the room, almost masking the usual scent of flowers and art supplies, and Clary was certain she'd be able to smell it in the sheets later. Between her legs, Luke didn't even try to censor the lewd, wet noises he made as he licked at her, his curls tickling the delicate skin of her inner thighs.

Luke's broad tongue lapped against her to taste every new wave of wetness. His tongue was just long enough to probe inside, to relearn and remember every texture and pleasure point it had forgotten in the span of time since they had last been able to do this. When his lips closed around her clit and his tongue swept out to roll over it, Clary bucked wildly, crying out. He did it again and again, and Clary's hands flew down to tangle in his hair.

"Luke!" She gasped. "Don't stop, don't stop!" Her hips rolled as he continued, and she held his head firmly in place, pressing herself to his mouth. Her breasts heaved as she struggled to breathe, and her fingers clenched and unclenched in his hair, making him groan. Clary let out a strangled sob as the vibrations hit her. 

He slid a finger into her and she gasped as it delved in deep. It wasn't thick enough, not nearly thick enough for what she wanted, but when he crooked it forward and began to flutter it teasingly against her g-spot, she cried out again, and the tightness that had been building in her threatened to snap.

"I'm gonna--" she cried, desperately rutting against his face. "I'm gonna come, Luke, please PLEASE RIGHT THERE!"

Luke could feel her thighs trembling and he pursed his lips, sucking lightly at her clit as he rubbing his finger in little circles against the perfect spot inside her. In the span of two heartbeats he had her coming, arching her back and pulling his hair so hard that tears stung the back of his eyes. He watched her from between her legs, drinking in the sight of her sweaty skin and rumpled hair until she collapsed against the sheets, and then he abandoned her clit with a soft kiss and climbed on top of her.

Clary knew what would come now. It was her favorite part of having sex with Luke. She lay limp in the afterglow of her orgasm, arms and legs too heavy-feeling to move, and she blinked sleepily at him as he adjusted her hips wider and lined himself up to push swiftly in. A low, quiet moan escaped her lips as he entered her, and her body tensed for just a moment as it was stretched wider than it had been in far too long. 

Luke didn't pause, hungry and desperate, and quickly set a demanding rhythm. Clary's body went limp again and she closed her eyes, relaxing against the sheets and letting Luke take her at his own pace. There was something just a little thrilling about having sex right after she had come, when he could do whatever he liked to her and she was almost too tired and satisfied to protest. She watched him through half-lidded eyes as he fucked into her desperately and knew that he got off on it, too, got off on seeing her so thoroughly exhausted by their lovemaking, made pliable and receptive to everything he wanted to do to her. He wasn't just taking her like this; he was defiling her, debasing her in her own room. 

Clary forced her arms to slide up her stomach to cup her aching breasts, massaging the soreness away while Luke moaned above her, his face still glistening wet with her fluids. His thrusts became harder, shifting her up the bed a little with each one, and Clary's head fell limply to the side as he speared her over and over again on his cock. 

A loud buzzing sounded from the side table as Clary's cell phone lit up, vibrating against the wood and startling them both out of their sex daze. Luke threw himself off of her, landing back against the bed ungracefully as he stared, terrified, at the closed bedroom door. His cock bounced lewdly between his legs as he scrambled backward, a drop of precome still dangling from the tip. 

Clary's heartbeat slowed down again after her initial fright, and she grabbed the phone off the side table, adrenaline overriding her exhaustion. "Luke, it's ok!" she said quickly. "Look, it's just my phone. It's just Simon." She held up the phone so he could see before hitting the decline button and tossing it back onto the side table. Luke was still staring at the door, his entire body tense. "Hey, come back," she coaxed. "No one's here. No one will catch us. Come here." 

She pushed herself up enough to tug at his arm gently, and he reluctantly let her pull him on top of her again. She kissed him slowly, reassuringly, and he shivered when he felt her delicate hand reach down to line his cock up to her entrance again. Her hands went to his hips, guiding him gently to push back in and holding him there once he was fully inside her. Luke broke their lazy kiss and ducked down to bite gently at her neck, leaving a line of red marks down to her shoulder, where he sucked a purple mark between the half-moon teeth marks. All the while, they rocked serenely together, grinding his cock inside her more than actually fucking. Clary gasped his name as he kissed his way back up her neck, all her attention focused on how their bodies fit together.

Luke kissed over her cheeks, brushing lips against hers lightly before whispering, "I love you," into her mouth, almost apologetically. Clary's pupils were blown and her eyelashes fluttered as she repeated it back to him, shivering at the intensity in his eyes. He took a moment to kiss her deeply again, and then picked up his pace once more, building and building as he lost his control and let his feral instinct take over, claiming her with brutal force. 

Clary cried out, driven past coherent thought as he angled his hips and drove into her g-spot repeatedly. Her hands slid up his back and it was all she could do to hold onto him, her fingernails sinking into the flesh of his shoulders, but it only seemed to encourage him. He fucked roughly into her until his rhythm began to falter as she trembled under him, every muscle tensed until finally, finally, he felt himself teeter and fall over the edge of his orgasm. His cock pulsed wildly, emptying strips of thick come deep inside her to mix with her own wetness. Clary felt him pumping his load into her and her own orgasm hit from the sheer filthiness of the sensation. 

Luke collapsed onto his elbows, head hanging limply next to her. He brushed his nose tiredly against hers as she struggled to gain control of her breathing again. When their heartbeats finally slowed, Luke looked down at her, her tangled red hair fanned out across the pillows, and kissed her deeply, lazily, happy to cover her with his body as his cock softened inside her. Some small part of him purred happily at having claiming her so thoroughly, but the bigger part of him wanted only to cradle her under him, to cover and protect her. 

Finally she nudged him off and he slipped out of her, settling down beside her to pull her in close. She pressed her cheek against his chest and he carefully stroked her hair, combing gently through the tangles. Eventually, the clock in the hallway chimed the hour, and Luke pressed another kiss to Clary's forehead.

"We have to clean up," he mumbled as she whined in protest. "I don't want to risk running into your mother in the foyer on my way out."

Clary grumbled at him sleepily, but reluctantly let him pull her out of bed and onto her feet. They made quick work of straightening her room back to its prior state, although Clary refused to let him strip the sheets from the bed. "Just for tonight," she said when he gave her an odd look. "I'll change them tomorrow." Luke shrugged and let her have her way. 

Clary was still naked when Luke finished putting on his shoes and stood to leave. She slipped easily into his arms and rested her head on his shoulder. They stood there in silence for a moment, looking over her room one last time. The fading scent of sex in the air was the only clue left behind that betrayed their secret. Soon, her room would seem as innocent as it always had, just the cluttered home of a teenaged girl. But Clary knew better now, knew it would be days before she could cross the threshold without the reminder of Luke driving into her flashing across her eyes. 

"Happy birthday," she whispered, and Luke huffed a laugh, because for once, he had honestly forgotten all about it. 

Luke kissed her goodbye and slipped out quietly, no sign of Jocelyn. Clary went about her evening, taking a shower to wash off the dried sweat and come that slid down her thigh, and when she curled into her bed that night to rest, she pressed her face into the mattress and breathed deep, and felt a wave of desire bloom between her legs once again.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, you can find me on Tumblr as an-odd-ducky, where I post additional Claymark drabbles and fanart. Come say hello!


End file.
